


Copycat

by Miredo_Doremi



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But Dream doesn't know it, Dreamon wants to start some shit, Dreamons, Dreams trying his best, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Poor Tommy has to deal with it, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28441044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miredo_Doremi/pseuds/Miredo_Doremi
Summary: Tommy doesn’t know what the fuck that green bastard is planning, but he’s not buying the nice guy act for one second.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 262





	Copycat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DataJacker](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=DataJacker).



> Secret Santa prompt: The reason Dream is manipulative is because he has no idea what's actually going on. He's split between Dreamon in lmanberg and just Dream when he's with tommy. So I'd like some oblivious!Dream and Tommy angst! 
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy New Year DataJacker!

Tommy doesn’t know what the fuck that green bastard is planning, but he’s not buying the nice guy act for one second.

Dream had taken it upon himself to visit Tommy in exile almost daily, and even now, he could see the masked man rowing towards him in the distance, a growing dark speck afloat a sea of blue.

He seems different from before, the image of an angry, screaming Dream altered into a more laidback, goofy version. He cracked jokes, built structures with him, gave him food and relayed news about New L’Manberg.

(Although the news was always vague, as if Dream were relaying information received from a third-party)

Dream walks up to him, netherite boots crunching in the beach’s white sand and gives Tommy a friendly wave. “Heya Toms!”

Tommy grits his teeth. “Don’t call me Toms,” he growls, already taking off his armor to put into the pit Dream had dug weeks ago.

Faltering slightly at Tommy’s mechanical actions, Dream purses his lips and lights the TNT, dropping it down the hole.

The explosion that follows leaves Tommy slightly shaking and with an exhaustion that carries deep in his bones.

“I hate you.” The words slip out, hollow but tinged with the slightest bit of venom.

Dream laughs shortly and shakes his head. “Oh Tommy, you don’t hate me.” He looks around at the island, head tilting when he sees the ruins of Tommy’s tent, destroyed in a recent fit of despair and rage. “Uh, need help fixing your tent?”

“No, I like it like that.”

“Uh huh,” Dream says, clearly unconvinced. He’s already pulling out wood from his inventory and moving past Tommy, who glares at the ground and makes no attempt to stop him.

It isn’t until the tent is fixed and Dream and Tommy are sharing a slice of pumpkin pie that Tommy whispers a nearly silent thank you that Dream returns with a smile.

* * *

Being half-Dreamon has its pros and its cons. There weren’t many of his kind, Dream had never even met another half-Dreamon before, but he often wondered if they all experienced life with their Dreamon side the same way he did. Human souls and Dreamon souls were like oil and water, two fluids that could coincide in the same container, but never properly mix due to their properties. So, for as long as Dream could remember, he had never been alone.

Enter Dreamon.

His other half that he alternated his consciousness with on a daily basis. After years of practice, Dreamon had perfected Dream’s mannerisms, voice inflections, everything that made Dream, well, _Dream_. His friends could spend a whole week with Dreamon and not notice anything out of place. Unfortunately, when one side resided in the subconscious, they retained no information gained from the fronting one. To remedy this, a system of note-taking was developed, left behind for the other half to read to understand the events that had taken place while they were absent. It was in no way a perfect system, but it was sustainable nonetheless. It was rooted in trust forged throughout years of cohabitation.

Lately, however, something was off.

“How’s everything going with New L’Manberg?” Dream had asked Dreamon a while back. The only time the two halves could reconvene was while they slept. That night, they met each other high in the sturdy limbs of jungle trees surrounded by the greenery of the imagined biome.

Dreamon stretched his arms behind his back, eliciting a crack before sighing in content. “They’re a pain in the ass, but no more than usual. There’s a lot more people now, it’s growing fast.”

“Oh,” was all Dream could muster, barely concealed disappointment coating his words. “Hope I’ll meet them soon.”

Dreamon sighed in exasperation. “Look, I know it sucks but there’s a lot I have planned in the real world now! So much is happening that if you fronted, you and everyone else would just be confused.” His black tail swished in the air lazily. “Besides, I was on the backburner for the entire second war, it’s only fair.”

That was true, Dreamon had promised not to interfere with Dream’s plans during the second war and Dream still felt guilty for leaving Dreamon in the dark for so long. The guilt only grew every day that he didn’t front, floating in nothing and missing everything.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, it’s just…” he trailed off.

Dreamon raised an eyebrow. “Just what? Out with it.”

“I just feel lonely.”

“You have me.”

A sigh. “You know that’s not the same.”

“…”

A few moment passed before Dreamon hummed, his gaze landing on something off in the distance. “Then I think I have a solution. I’d prefer if I spent my time fronting in New L’Manberg, but a certain someone is all alone in exile…”

Dream leaned forward in excitement, smiling wide at the idea of interacting with people again.

Red eyes glinted, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. “I’m sure Tomathy would appreciate the company, wouldn’t you agree?”

Dream stares at the note, fingers unconsciously tracing the creases as he reads it for the umpteenth time. It’s a list of rules left by Dreamon and apparently enforced by Tubbo for the conditions of Tommy’s exile.

  1. **_Destroy any items Tommy may acquire_**



An odd rule that Dream could somewhat understand. Tubbo probably didn’t want Tommy to retaliate against him by stockpiling weapons and armor.

  1. **_Under no circumstances is Tommy allowed back into New L’Manberg until his sentence is served. It is punishable by death._**



Tommy was a smart kid, but Dream knew that his impulsiveness often got the better of him. He didn’t want to see the kid lose his last life, so he was more than willing to babysit him in case he got into trouble. Dream briefly wondered who would be tasked to take Tommy’s life if he was caught trespassing. He imagined that would be a heavy burden to bear.

  1. **_Don’t trust anything Ghostbur says._**



Now that one Dream understood perfectly. The supposedly mellow ghost spoke nonsense at times, which Tommy seemed happy to indulge in. Dream didn’t trust Ghostbur, not after the events that took place leading to his death and chose to keep his distance from the shell that was once Wilbur.

He pockets the note and enters his boat, mentally preparing himself for sore arms in the near future. After all, he has a party to attend and he’s already late as it is.

When he arrives at Logstedshire, the scene is pitiful. The beach is empty, save for a hunched over figure sitting on the sand and a table with a lopsided cake sloppily coated in bright white frosting. The candles stuck within the cake have long since melted, encasing the top of it in a layer of hardened red wax. Dream’s heart clenches and he tentatively makes his way towards Tommy, whose head is buried in his knees, back rising up and down with each trembling breath.

“Toms? Tommy?” He reaches out a hand as he hears Tommy sniff.

“Go away,” says the muffled voice.

Dream looks toward the abandoned table again and sees the shredded wrapping littering the floor, presents meant for invitees broken into pieces. Dream takes a seat next to the crying teen and pats his back in an attempt to comfort him. Tommy looks up with red, swollen eyes, face twisted in a grimace that’s barely upheld with trembling lips. “No one fucking came, Dream. Did they…did they even get the invitations?”

Dream frowned as he remembered how Dreamon reassured him that all the invitations had been sent out. That meant that out of all the invitations delivered, not one person had bothered to show up to Tommy’s beach party. Rage almost chokes him; he had helped Tommy make the invitations himself after the boy seemed so dejected that none of his friends had visited him in exile. A party was a perfect opportunity to bring everyone together. Clearly, Dream had misread the situation because it seemed that no one even _cared_ to go in the first place. “Yeah, they did.”

He’s met with silence. “Tommy, I’m sor-”

“Even you were late.” There’s no anger in his voice now, just resignation

“I got caught up with personal stuff.” Dreamon had given him control an hour later than they had agreed to. They needed to have a talk about that tonight, that was certain. “And I…I thought people would have already been there, so what would it matter if I was an hour late?”

“Ranboo, Ghostbur, Tubbo…” his voice breaks, “my friends don’t care about me, do they?”

Dream rubs his back gently, a huge contrast to the disdain he feels welling up inside for those in New L’Manberg. “Real friends wouldn’t do this Toms. You don’t need them. Besides, you have me, don’t you?”

Tommy wipes his eyes and nods hesitantly. That’s Dream’s cue to grab the bag he has out of his inventory and present it to Tommy. “Here’s a gift I got you for the party.”

The teen eyes the slightly open mouth of the bag warily, as if there’s a snake waiting to jump out at him. Slowly, he grasps the bag and opens it. His eyes widen and his mouth drops as he pulls out a shimmering trident. “You…I…trident…WHAT?” He shrieks and Dream wheezes.

“Took me a while to get it but there you go bud! Why don’t you go try it out above the water?” He’s expecting Tommy to jump up and immediately do what he suggested but is startled as he’s suddenly enveloped in a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you, Big D, thank you,” Tommy says breathlessly before letting go and sprinting towards the water.

Dream watches with a smile as he throws the trident and is catapulted upwards with a shout. His smile twists into a scowl when he looks back at the mess a few feet away. He didn’t know the citizens of New L’Manberg could be so cruel. No matter, he would be there for Tommy, be his friend during exile. His main concern was getting Tommy to distance himself from them. Holding on to hope of friendship with people that uncaring would only hurt the teen in the long run. Dream only hoped he would be enough.

His attention is drawn back towards the water as Tommy crashes into it with a large splash. He resurfaces whooping and hollering in excitement and gets ready to try again.

Dream reaches into his inventory, pulls out a notebook and a pen, and begins to write.

_No one came to Tommy’s party, I’m worried for him…_

**Author's Note:**

> Dreamon's pulling a lot of stuff under Dream's nose now that he's in control. He's doing what he thinks is best for them, but being a Dreamon, his motives get to be a bit warped. 
> 
> Happy New Year Everyone! 
> 
> Join my discord! https://discord.gg/QcTGpad3yY


End file.
